Échec et Mat
by mentosmorii
Summary: Years after the last colony, Artemis and Minerva meet again to play chess. A look into the adventures of the horrible teenaged intellectuals of Europe.


Artemis looked across the chessboard at Minerva. Not breaking eye contact, he gently used his bishop to knock her knight over. She gave no indication of disappointment, and he sighed, hitting the pin on his side of the wooden chess clock to start her turn.

"Not that chess isn't a delightful time," he began, not waiting for her to look up from the board before continuing. "But don't you think it's limiting?"

"How so?" she asked, setting her pawn on H5. He eyed it carefully.

"Well, think of how we met," Artemis picked up one of his own pawns, waving it absentmindedly as he spoke. "It was a battle of wits fought over the future of the People. How is playing chess every time we meet not perpetuating the limitations set by approaching camaraderie through both the lens of power and the end goal of conquering one's opponent?"

"Intellectual posturing won't change the fact that I took your rook, Artemis," Minerva pointed out, and Artemis groaned, setting his pawn back down. She spluttered, reaching over to pick it back up and shove it back towards him.

"No taking back moves! We're not playing in the _junior _leagues, after all."

Artemis protested. "I just picked it up — I wasn't planning on actually _playing _it."

"Well, you shouldn't have picked it up, then," she looked at him pointedly. He sighed, taking the pawn back up.

"There, G3. Your move," he declared.

"Thank you. Goodness, chess as a 'perpetuation of the limitations set by approaching camaraderie through the lens of power' — how obnoxiously POMO of you," she mused more to herself than to him, setting her chin on her outstretched hand.

He furrowed his brow. "Po…mo?"

She looked up, almost surprised. "Oh! POMO —postmodern, that is."

Artemis leaned back in his chair, intrigued. "Is that what France's teenage intellectuals are using as pejorative slang for continental philosophy?"

She clucked her tongue at his stalling, hitting the chess clock for him in order to start her turn again. Minerva ghosted her fingers over the cool, white pieces on her side of the board. Hovering over her queen, she toyed with it, taking care to never let its bottom fully leave the board.

"As you well know, I am the _height _of coolness in youth academia, a title which is _clearly _not an oxymoron" she quipped, finally picking her queen up.

He raised his eyebrows. "Bold move with your queen. And don't be obstinate— if academia were to have its 'rockstars', then you'd surely be in the pantheon of the twenty-first century's greats."

"Oh, Artemis, I thought we were beyond underhanded barbs at this point. Being popular among academics just means that your peers are united in their belief that you're more annoying than everyone else in your discipline," she rolled her eyes.

"Which is a feat in and of itself," Artemis insisted. "Do you know a single academic that's not even a _little _bit obnoxious?"

She fixed him with her gaze. "No, I can't say that I do."

"Point taken," he held up a hand in concession.

She grinned, finally setting her queen down on the board. "Your move, then."

He steepled his fingers, ignoring the chess clock. "I am intrigued now — you've studied philosophy, then, if I'm interpreting your earlier statements correctly."

Minerva hemmed. "Briefly. I had a phase back in _lycée _where I was rather taken with Kant's work."

Artemis' eyes brightened. "You follow the analytic tradition, then."

"You don't?" she tilted her head.

"I'm afraid I have a soft spot for continental thinkers."

She gasped, pretending to be scandalized. "_ Artemis_! I was only joking with my POMO comment — you actually follow that tradition?"

He put his hand to his chest in mock apology. "Please don't tell my parents. It'd break their hearts."

At that, she snorted. "Your mother and father are invested in the ideological divides within western philosophy?"

"You know me well enough to know when I'm joking, Minerva. Don't be a pedant," Artemis sighed.

"Fine, fine. Although I suppose it makes sense —I've heard it said that analytic philosophers are mathematicians who are disappointed by the world, whereas continentals are disappointed comedians. Still, I would have pegged you as belonging to the analytic school," Minerva hummed, looking at him disapprovingly.

Artemis chuckled. "I would've definitely followed the analytic tradition had you asked me where I fell as a pre-teen."

"You do strike me as an obscurantist," she sniffed.

"For _shame_, Minerva. Far too many philosophers have had that term lobbed at them unjustly. Take Derrida, for example. If I might borrow from Derrida's rebuttal to his critics, just because you can't understand what I'm saying, does not mean my words are devoid of meaning altogether," he chided.

"_Derrida _deserved to be called much harsher things than an obscurantist. And if might step in for one of his critics, Chomsky — you, Artemis, are perhaps one of the most amusing and perfectly self-conscious charlatans I've ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"I believe he was _actually _saying that in reference to Jacques Lacan," he countered, tapping a tapered finger to his chin. "Careful, Minerva — however delightful your polemic distaste for continental philosophy might be, I'd hate for your argument to hinge upon false representation. Not that the pitfall you've fallen into doesn't succinctly characterize analytic philosophers' critique of continentals, however."

She waved a hand. "Oh, Lacan, Derrida, Foucault — they're all masters in saying so much, and meaning so _very _little."

"That's rather uncharitable towards some of France's most influential thinkers," he noted.

"Oh, for the love of — then why don't you follow the likes of Terence Irwin? Herbert McCabe? They're both rather influential contemporary Irish _analytic _philosophers. Country of origin is no matter philosophically, is my point. I feel no need to defend every pseudo-intellectual that my country's produced."

"Irwin and McCabe are fine, but they're nowhere near as synonymous with Irish philosophy as continentals are with French academia. Not to be dismissive, but they haven't even spoken at Trinity College. That's sort of a prerequisite for putting yourself into the canon of Irish intellectuals."

"They let you speak at Trinity, Artemis. That alone should be enough to cast doubt upon the institution," Minerva hinted.

Artemis started, and then grinned widely. "Cheeky! I was right to compare you to Chomsky, I see."

"Which would make you Foucault, I assume,"

"Chomsky had many, many rivals — I needn't be Foucault in this analogy," he said dismissively.

"It fits," she retorted, looking at him in challenge.

"Why?" Artemis rose an eyebrow. "Oh — Is it the neuroses, the issue of morals, or the fact he was rather gay?" he ticked off a finger for each reason.

At that, Minerva paused, thinking. "On second thought, perhaps he's not the best comparison. After all, he was a Marxist, and you like gold to the degree that drawing a parallel between you two is almost obscene," she remarked, picking up one of her bishops.

"Nothing to say about the points of comparison, then?"

Minerva whacked him. "Come off it. I may joke, but you do have a moral backbone. And you're not wholly intolerable, despite your best attempts to convince me otherwise."

"Oh, you're too kind, truly, Minerva," he simpered falsely.

"Still, I'll be charitable and give you…" she floundered. "Ah! Shakespeare!"

"What?" he blanched.

The tips of her ears were tinged red, yet she continued. "Don't… some scholars believe him to be bisexual?"

"Minerva," he laughed, and she flushed a deeper scarlet. "I was teasing. I don't really mind that you compared me to Foucault. You don't need to find a 'nicer' bisexual academic to compare me to. It rather defeats the original point of our discussion, anyway — that continental philosophy, despite its… occasional bad apples," he winced. "Is _better _than analytic."

"Oh, whatever," she huffed.

"I'm flattered you'd 'give' me Shakespeare, though," he rested his chin upon his palm lazily. "That's maybe the nicest thing you've _ever _said to me."

"I'm revoking him," she gritted her teeth. "You don't get to be Shakespeare anymore."

"That seems rather unfair," Artemis pointed out.

"He's been revoked," she stressed, setting her bishop down on the board. "By the way — _check. _"

Artemis blinked, looking back at his king. "_ Damn _."

He looked up at her, steeling his gaze. "Minerva," he started, putting his hands palm side up on the table. "It seems as though you've proven my earlier point — which, although I am loath to forfeit a match, required my suppressing my skill in order to drive my argument home. _Now _do you see that chess is a continuation of the limitations—"

"If you don't either move your king or admit you've lost, _I swear _Je vais te battre avec ce fichu échiquier," she prodded him.

Artemis rolled his eyes, moving his knight to capture her bishop. "_ There_. En passant, de rien."

"Thank you," she said, pleased. "I do enjoy our matches."

"Oh, they're lovely," Artemis droned, regarding the board glumly. In a way, he was glad he hadn't met her when he was younger whilst at a conference or something of the sort. The idea of his twelve-year-old self befriending Minerva was a tad horrifying. The havoc they would have wreaked would've been enough to make even Domovoi prematurely go grey.

Minerva picked up one of her remaining pawns and set it down on a new square, glee apparent in her eyes. His gaze flickered back to his king, and he resisted the urge to nudge it to the farthest edge of the square it was resting in.

"Your move," she ordered. He sighed.

* * *

**AN:**

Translation(s):

je vais te battre avec ce fichu échiquier: I'll beat you with this damn chessboard

En passant, de rien: By the way, you're welcome (also — this is a chess pun, as the en passant rule is a rule permitting the capture of an opponent's pawn when it moves two squares on its first move passing a pawn of the opposite color)

échec et mat: checkmate

**Notes on characterization, philosophy stuff, and general nonsense (this is long as all hells im so sorry lol):**

I see a teenaged Minerva representing a slightly more math-y, aged up version of Artemis in the first book: not very tactful, somewhat abrasive, and highly competitive.

In terms of why I say she's more math-y (and why I portrayed her as liking analytic philosophy), here is a scene from the fifth book:

"'We're in an art gallery,' said Minerva. 'Do we really have time for art?'

Artemis halted, surprised. 'There's always time for art,' he said."

But to speak to the earlier scene, although Artemis, at his core, is a jack-of-all-trades in terms of how Colfer portrays his intelligence, his passion has always been for the humanities. Linguistics is a puzzle for him, art theft delights him, his narration is full of him making classical or biblical allusions, and when he does spend time with his brothers doing 'normal' things, it's painting. His problem as a thinker is that he tends to juggle too many possibilities when evaluating situations, whereas Minerva tends to think more in black and white terms.

Both analytic and continental are modern western traditions, and here's how they differ. Analytic is a focus on logic, language, and the natural sciences, with an emphasis on argument, logical analysis, and language. The basic idea surrounding it is that philosophical problems can be solved by logically analyzing key terms, concepts, or propositions. I see Minerva liking the idea behind this philosophy, i.e. that if you just are able to logically analyze something enough, then you will eventually come to the Right Answer ™.

On the other hand, continental is often characterized by not being an extremely transparent way of exposing one's ideas (it can get a little word-salady), and it's more concerned with social issues, historical trends, and literature than its analytic counterpart. Derrida's work is infamously hard to read, but it deals with the idea that society always tries to push off dealing with the elusive concept of justice, that the way language functions gives what we say multiple meanings, and that books don't have one, singular 'right' way to read a text. I'd see that way of thinking as being intriguing to Artemis — he's very good at deciphering academic nonsense but very bad at deciphering what people are saying in his friendships, a fact that would make Derrida's work surrounding language very interesting to him (a better counterpoint that Minerva could have made would be that Wittgenstein, an analytic philosopher, made similar points in a way more coherent way).

Continental philosophy presents many interesting moral concepts, but I trust many of the thinkers that came up with the core tenants of this tradition as far as I can throw them. Foucault is a good example. His contemporaries described him as aloof, sarcastic, and at times cruel, yet his writing is regarded as fairly influential. There are people who take the view that his writing was wholly garbage, however, and Chomsky was among them. The two ended up debating, and their debate only cemented the hatred between the two. Within this fic, Minerva was referring to their debates and rivalry when she compared Artemis to Foucault after he compared her to Chomsky, but Artemis sort of played dirty by insinuating she drew the comparison for some of the other reasons people disliked Foucault — Foucault was neurotic, rude, and openly gay at a time when that was not given the carte blanche in France. The Shakespeare rebuttal Minerva made actually is a theory some people have regarding Shakespeare so *jazz hands* fun fact!

To return to my point about analytic vs continental, ultimately, the divide is a bit silly. I don't think these ways of thinking are true opposites. Similarly, I think Minerva and Artemis are different sides of the same coin rather than opposites in personality — to say Minerva is more arrogant or obnoxious than Artemis was in book one just isn't an accurate representation. She's an asshole because Artemis was an asshole — that's how they function as foils of one another!


End file.
